American Riviera Orchard. Literal me wondered where was this Orchard on a Riviera somewhere in America.
I was not getting it. Neither, it appeared, were the punters, with The Times reporting that five months after launch the Duchess of Sussex's lifestyle vehicle had yet to put any products (kitchenware; jellies; drinkware; jams) on the shelves.
That formulation of name. Surely I had seen it before? Then the lightbulb moment. It's Crufts, and I immediately consulted the trusty Google to see that the 2024 Best in Show was Brighttouch Drift The Line Through Dialynne, equally random. And there is irony - might we say that both names concern a dog? Perhaps harsh, and the Orchard may yet yield fruit? Who knows.
.........
The laws of supply and demand are being tested. Yet again the richness of the English language yields a euphemism in the form of 'dynamic pricing' for Oasis tickets. Of course the concept is defended, and Uber users know that if you travel peak period in the rain there will be a 10-20% hike in cost.
But for Oasis tickets Gordon Gecko appears to have resurfaced, as in dynamic pricing = screw you sad bastards if you didn't manage to get tickets in the one minute after go live online.
But help is at hand. Labour may be legislating to curb the practice for the future to enable 'ordinary working people' to attend concerts. Am I an ordinary working person? I must reflect.
.........
Wednesday mid-morning is usually quiet in the gym. But not so today - that post-August must get myself back in shape thing.
But to support us, there were the culturally nourishing lyrics of 'Make Me' by Borai and Denham Audio (you can fool anyone on music knowledge with Shazam):
'Baby I don't know what I should do,
You sure make me feel like loving you.'
Repeat for three minutes.
Very encouraging as one lifts those weights.
.........
Names that are the antithesis of the role. Recently heard of a GP: 'Dr Pannick'.
.........
Cadent's latest slogan: 'Keeping you warm'. My version: 'Keeping you stuck in a traffic jam'.
........
...and phrases of the time: 'He left it all out there': as in Jack Draper in the semi-final of US Open Tennis. Racket; shirt; shorts; socks; trainers...
In fact I think it's a nice turn of phrase.
..........
An insightful journalist observation on populist nationalists, that they offer '...a chance to repeat the mistakes of the 20th century, to resurrect the old idea that the nation is threatened, and to become a true and worthy version of itself, the country - the people - must confront all threats, all enemies.'
So the question is how far a 'threat' should be judged subjectively from the viewpoint of a person/group, or how far there should be some objectivity in the assessment? My take is that if we go full-on subjective then the populist nationalists have won, and civilisation fails.
PS If you have a neighbouring country persistently firing rockets into your country, doesn't that sound objectively like being threatened? Ok, do the whataboutery in response, but as some politicians have finally had the guts to say, all recently travelled roads lead back to October 7th. And BTW, Israel has been threatened since the beginning of its existence.
.........
Postcard from The Cotswolds
For various logistical reasons I was collected from Hanborough, first train stop on from Oxford. The line is single track here, designed for the easily muddled on where to go. All peaceful and Miss Marpleish, in contrast to the departure from Paddington where, the service running late, we all saw the Platform finally announced and ran for the gates, where the staff member let us pile through unchecked. Sod age or infirmity, this was every person for themselves.
However, do not think this means a new laissez-faire approach from GWR. The train guard (I'm sure he has a more glamorous job title) scrutinised every ticket and railcard, using a pen torch and resembling a GP peering down your throat to see whether there was inflammation.
.........
For various reasons this was a two-stop trip. First was in Ampney Crucis. Would you not like to have that as your home address? Ampney Brook is a tributary of the Thames, and Crucis comes from its church, The Church of the Holy Cross. Apparently there is evidence of a Roman settlement nearby...
..........
...which leads to the first visit being Chedworth Roman Villa. The Romans did a lot for us, and we should be gobsmacked in admiring Chedworth's hypocaust system - underfloor heating through hot air and smoke blown into pipes from a furnace. The site has evidence of 5th century life in Britain, dispelling the theory of some form of mass evacuation in 410CE. And here's the really good bit - the excavation goes on.
.........
Bibury has seduced international tourists. Maybe it's the converging waterways a la Bourton-on-the Water that have them wandering around aimlessly and then installing themselves in a bar of The Swan Hotel ready for a traditional afternoon tea.
However, Bibury's USP is the Trout Farm. Lakes of trout, of course. But a bonus of a section where you can catch your trout. And then cook it on one of the barbecues laid out for your convenience. The process was demonstrably popular with large family groups making a day of it - good weather helped. Talk about locally sourced ingredients...
Vegans now look away.
The perceptive amongst you will have noticed that I missed out a step in the water to table process. Kill before grill. You kill the trout (I have photos to prove) by holding it down and then bashing it behind the head three or four times with a wooden mallet handle called - wait for it - a priest. I am shocked that the Roman Catholic Church has not taken offence.
The guidance by written notice is that the action should be done by an adult. My observation was that most chose to bring in one of the staff on hand.
Three or four blows.
So I saw one - large blighter - duly dispatched, put in a bucket.and then....... its tail started to wriggle, requiring another few blows. No wonder that there was this sign at the entrance to the killing fields:
'The Catch Your Own fishing area is the other side of this bridge. Fish are caught and killed using traditional methods.If it's likely to upset or offend you, please avoid this area.'
Sensible comms.
.........
Back to more traditional culture, but not a goodbye to trigger warnings. Dyhram Park nestles, as the guidebooks say, in a valley north of Bath. In tourist board-speak, it is in the southerly part of the Cotswolds, though some folk might quibble on this designation when the house is south of the M4.
Dyrham Park was built for William Blathwayt, a late 17th/early 18th century chap who administered Britain's North American territories and served as Secretary of State for War to William III. Hmm - a target then for anti-colonialists, and the National Trust as owners have gone full tonto in 'explaining' Blathwayt's connections to slavery. Thus at the foot of the stairs leading to two slave representations (each a black man carrying a tray on his head) there is the trigger warning for the sensitive. This includes the line:
'Alternative visitor routes are available should you not wish to encounter these objects'.
If you a were 'sensitive', would you go anywhere near Dyrham Park unless you were easily confused and thought you were visiting an outpost of It's a Small World?
....who would probably never go near the place unless they got confused and through it was an outpost of It's A Small World.
PS Blathwayr prayed for a visit by the King, but William fell off his horse and died before his schedule could allow the trip. Shit happens, son.
.........
Snowshill Manor and Gardens: bonkers delight. Home of Charles Wade, architect and collector. So much the latter that after he bought the property he filled the manor house with stuff and lived in the cottage next door. Apparently all stuff collected, despite being from around the world, was bought in the UK - no Grand Tour or similar for Charles.
Of course there is a cafe, but with it a bonus, as you can buy your lunch, stick it on a tray, eschew the tables outside the cafe, and march to find a bench with a fabulous view over a Cotswold valley. Not much fun in the rain, but on that day someone had looked down and delivered sun. Delightful.
.........
You know the thing about going to a place for the first time and then seeing it again soon after when in the area for another purpose. So it was for Snowshill Manor, as after extensive research our chosen walk was a circular taking in Stanton and Snowshill, with the valleys between. Oh dear - it must be a mark of middle-class Britishness that when one does a few days away in the country one includes a walk.
Billed as 6.5 miles. And the area was chosen as the landscape gets more hills and dales further north in the Cotswolds. 6.5 miles, but as this turned out to be 20,000 plus steps I am pretty sure we did over 7. Add to that three steepish climbs, and by the end we were well done in, though at one point registering Snowshill Manor on the other side of a valley gave a strange sense of achievement.
Never mind the distance, as there was a welcoming pub billed for the end. At 4pm we stumbled towards it.....to find that it didn't open until 6pm.
So back in the car and return to HQ, but the pint of local Tom Long straight from the barrel in the Village Pub at Barnsley (that is in Gloucestershire for the avoidance of doubt) tasted all the better.
.........
Return home to, amongst other things, start grandfather support as part of a wider team.
Do you have in your mind cruel things said to you in the past where you remember the words although you can't remember who said them. I have few, but one was when a person told me that I lived for my children - I think the context was that I often talked about them.
Thus I equivocate before doing anything for which I could be accused of something similar.
But what the hell. The 7.5 lb bundle is now six weeks and approaching 10lb. In every gathering where he and I have been present, there is chat on other things, but every 10 minutes or so talk returns to him. This is partly because, unless he is asleep, he reminds us of his presence through Houdini-like wriggling, appeals for food, and emissions of various sorts - the circle of life.
And we all happily participate in the show. It remains a marvel to me how someone who still has relatively little clue what is going on around him, can create so much joy for those who come into his company.
.........
The author is a writer, speaker, historian, occasional tour guide, and former Managing Partner of a City law firm.
'